Pandora's Box
by Kameka
Summary: A snippet/scene sequel to my story titled "Reckless." Protozoa reflects on the kiss he shared with Zenon. The second in what (should be) a trilogy of snippet/scenes.


This is sequel to my Zenon snippet "Reckless." Characters from either movie are not mine, original characters are. No money is made. This is in the first person POV. Not my normal way of writing, so I apologize now.

Pandora's Box

By: Kameka

Everyone always thought that I had my head in the clouds when I was a child. That's why no one thought that my choosing to be a performer was out there. Sure, some of them ridiculed me, as is normal for children and even teenagers to do. They all understood, though. They could see that it was something right for me.

I was a bookworm in school. Popular and trendy, but a bookworm nonetheless. I loved the old stories and mythology because that's what they were: stories. They dealt with the gamut of Human emotions. What better way to become a performer than to study the Human psyche? How else can I write about love and longing unless I both read about it and experience it?

One of my favorite stories is from Greek Mythology. Pandora's Box. Pandora was a beautiful woman created by Zeus, King of the Olympian Gods, and given to Epimetheus, Prometheus' brother, as a gift. She was given a container, some accounts say a box or chest, others say a jar, and told never to open it. Because she was endowed with the first feminine curiosity, she opened the vessel. From it came the evils that the Gods had placed in the box: sickness and suffering, hatred, jealousy, and greed. When Pandora tried to put the lid back on the box, she couldn't; it was already too late to save mankind from the black cloud that has hung over it since. The only thing that remained in the box was Hope.

My life sometimes seems like Pandora's Box. I have the best of intentions, really, I do. Everything still spins out of control. I can't decide if it's fate or fame, or a combination of the two. I wanted to be a performer. I wanted to be successful at my chosen profession. Being that my chosen possession is that of a singer, I should have known that being famous was a side effect. I even looked forward to it.

Who wouldn't want to be able to walk down the street and be greeted by a multitude of adoring fans who think my every word is golden?

I thought I did. Now I'm not so sure. Nothing I do is private. They discuss everything. What I do, who I'm with, where I am, what I wear, and how I style my hair. It's not so bad for me; I'm used to having my life splashed on the pages of every magazine that finds my life a sellable topic. I may not be happy about it all of the time, but it's something that comes with being famous, with having money.

Their tentacles are reaching out to touch others. People who aren't used to it, who have a right to the privacy I chose to give up years ago.

It was stupid of me to kiss Zenon. Completely 100% reckless. I knew it even as I did it. Knowing didn't stop me. What was the harm in it, I asked myself? I was going back to Earth; she was staying on her precious space station. I was leaving my inspiration. That's a dangerous thing for any songwriter. Why shouldn't I give her a farewell kiss? It's something completely normal. What's a hug or a kiss between friends? Nothing at all.

Unless one of the two people happen to be famous. 

I don't know how that photographer got the picture. He must have been hiding somewhere in the docking area. He couldn't have known for sure that he would get anything he could sell, but that was what photography is all about: you wait for the possibility. His patience paid off.

"Lester, have you heard anything from the lawyers yet?"

"Zoa, you know that there's nothing you can do," Lester answered as he came out onto the deck that Proto Zoa was currently lounging on. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, grimacing in the hot glare of the sun.

"There's never anything I can do," I griped. I don't blame Lester. Really, I don't. I don't blame anyone but myself.

"It's the drawback of being a star," Lester pointed out.

I grumbled under my breath, glad that Lester didn't always listen to what I said. Just what I needed: to give my manager a heart attack. I could just see those headlines now. They'd no doubt tie in the idea of an underage romance.

"Zoa, your girl's fine. She's up in space, who can bother her there?"

"She's not my girl," I answered defensively, not liking the way he lit up.

"Sounds like you're a little peeved about that," returned.

"She's a good girl. A good kid," I corrected myself. "She doesn't deserve to have to deal with this!"

"You know," he started as he sat down in the lawn chair next to Proto Zoa's, "from everything the papers have been printing about Zenon Kar, she can take care of herself against a couple of reporters. Even if only half of the stuff was true, she could."

"It's all true," I answered. "They know by now that I'm paying attention and just waiting for a reason to sue them. What better way to get sued than to lie on the news?" I asked the question grimly, not expecting an answer of any sort.

I saw Lester shake his head and lean back out of the corner of my eye. Lester's a great manager. One of the best in the business. I wouldn't employ him otherwise. He has tunnel vision. Normally it was an asset, but right now it's more of a problem than anything is. He sees all of this as a publicity gimmick.

I don't blame him. The publicity is great. Sales have gone even higher than before. People who only heard me on the radio are buying copies of my chips to play the songs and see if there's some mention of Zenon somewhere. Copies of my concert up in space are being bought too, so they can see the girl Zenon was when we first met.

Lester's missing something important. One of the things that escaped from Pandora's box. Fear. It's not like me to admit I'm scared of something. What kind of rock star would I be if I did? In the privacy of my own mind, I can admit anything. I can feel my palms sweat and my skin go clammy as my stomach clenches. No, I'm not coming down with anything like I told Lester I thought I was.

It's good old-fashioned fear. A touchstone of Human behavior. If man is afraid of something, he kills it or locks it up and studies it. It's the fight or flight response. It's what gets adrenaline pumping and protects people.

What does a rock star have to be afraid of?

Nothing, right? Wrong. Ignore the stalkers that are so prolific in the entertainment business, the normal worries about becoming old news and no longer selling records…

Zenon is my inspiration. I haven't admitted it to anyone but myself. What if she leaves because she decides it's too much trouble to be my friend?

I sound like a melodramatic teenager, but it's true. She has her own life ahead of her; her own interests and friends. Why complicate her life by getting involved with Pandora? I opened my box when I kissed her. I didn't ask her if she could handle the possible consequences because I didn't know there'd be any. It doesn't stop them from affecting her.

It's a beautiful day out here… The sun is shining and the sky is blue. It feels great to be back on Earth. I just don't feel like I belong here anymore.

I left something up there on that space station.

My Hope.

The End

Hope you liked it… As always, reviews are welcome!


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